


Intimately Sentimental

by mouservil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!Castiel, Demon!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Drabble, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, around season nine/ten, but not really destiel, kind of, s10 spoilers, s9 spoilers, wristwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 16:24:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouservil/pseuds/mouservil
Summary: Sam wants to know if Dean is really still in there behind the black eyes and come-and-get-me grin, so he asks Cas to help him find out.(I have no idea what to tag this)





	Intimately Sentimental

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember much of season nine so it might be a little inaccurate.

Information about the watch had been carefully altered when relayed back to the Winchesters. Nothing that could have harmed either brother had been withheld and reconstructed of course, because that would have the opposite effect of Castiel’s intentions. They were simple ‘white lies’ as people often called them. 

Instead of admitting that the stitching was made from the hair of a fairy, or that the leather had been made from wendigo rather than farm animals, or that the metal had been forged by the hand of a dragon, Castiel told them that they were a couple of very rare watches. Which wasn’t a lie - finding a dragon was difficult enough, but finding one that would actually cooperate with him had been next to impossible - and he’d thrown in enough details so that neither would be suspicious. They both had taken his offering without much questioning, and consequently without understanding the luck and protection that was supposed to come from it. 

It was exactly how Castiel had wanted it to be. He knew that while Sam wouldn’t have been too affected by the information, Dean would have ‘flipped out.’ Castiel knew that, even if there was nothing to be ashamed of, Dean would find it too girly, too intimately sentimental to be able to fully accept it for what it was; a gift. One of the only ways he knew humans used to show affection. 

Castiel mulled this over in his head often. Even while he followed Sam through the bunker, his eyes wandered to the young Winchester’s wrist, where the watch would have been had he been wearing it. Sam wore it only on special occasions so as to not ruin or break it in any way, shape, or form. Which didn’t bother Castiel at all, though he sometimes wished that he had been able to tell them that it was virtually indestructable. The leather could withstand anything, and the glass was one hundred percent bulletproof. It could even survive the bottom of Mariana’s Trench, should it find itself there. Castiel had tested them himself. 

He really had spent too much time on those watches. 

The squeak of metal hinges and the scuffle of wood scraping against the floor brought Castiel’s eyes to the man inside. His arms were crossed over his chest, but his lips curled upwards and he was leaning against the side of the chair. 

Castiel stiffened under his gaze. It wasn’t the first time that he’d seen Dean in this state between man and demon, but it was certainly the first time he really looked at him. 

“Cas, buddy,” Dean said, uncrossing his arms to spread wide, “y’still making all the wrong choices?” His arms fell back to his sides, his fingers finding refuge in the pockets of his blue jeans. He stepped away from the chair, but didn’t venture forward.

“How did he get out of the binding cuffs?”

Sam licked his lips, shoving the worry back down his throat. “I don’t know.” He looked over at Dean, who only smiled wickedly back, and then turned his eyes back to Castiel. 

“So, you’re just gonna talk about me like I’m not even here?” Dean asked raising his eyebrows at them. “Why don’t you two come on in, and we can have a little heart to heart.”

Castiel’s eyes had long since narrowed into a sharp glare, directing it straight at Dean. Without looking back to Sam, without saying a word, Castiel marched deeper into the room with all the determination and confidence of a soldier. He stepped through the Devil’s Trap with ease, stopping but an inch away from him - much too close for the demon’s comfort - ad gripped his left arm, forcing the hand out of his pocket. 

Dean snickered. “Whoa there,” he said. “You need consent ‘fore you go around touchin’ people like that.”

One hand on his upper forearm, the other just above the watch, Castiel stared at his wrist. The bulkiness of the timepiece made his arm look slimmer than it actually was. 

He felt Dean try to pull his arm away a couple of times, but Castiel was still stronger than him - even as a bearer of the Mark. Throughout his twenty second examination, Castiel’s facial expression remained the same. The watch had clearly been worn through some tough times, but other than a small scratch on the leather (which couldn’t even be seen by the human eye), it looked brand new. The fact that it was still there at all, after all this time of Dean being a demon and far away from his family, was enough to put Castiel's mind to rest even if it was only for a short moment.

The next time Dean tried to pull his arm away, Castiel willingly let go. His eyes lingered on the watch, where Dean’s other hand had immediately gone to wrap his fingers around the strap in an almost…  _ protective _ manner. The angel physically relaxed at the sight, looking back up to catch Dean’s eye. 

They stared at each other no more than three seconds before Castiel turned around and walked out of the trap. 

“Hey!” Dean shouted. 

Castiel didn't turn around or give in to Dean's call, but he did whisper over to Sam on his way out:  “Still Dean.”


End file.
